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The 

Spirit 

Singing 



By Henry Victor Morgan 



.JKF* 



The 

Spirit 

Singing 



Copyright, 1921 
By Henry Victor Morgan 



THE SPIRIT SINGING 

AND 

OTHER POEMS 

By 

HENRY VICTOR MORGAN 

Author of 

"Songs of Victory'* 

"Soul Powers and Privileges*' 

"The Healing Christ** 

Etc. 




PUBLISHED BY 
MASTER CHRISTIAN PUBLISHING COMPANY 

3316 NO 31ST. TACOMA, WASHINSTON 
PRICE 75c 



\ty> 



CONTENTS AJJ^' 

The Spirit Singing .„___ 7 

Success > 9 

My Anchor Holds 10 

The Hills of God 11 

Freedom 12 

Mother 12 

The Vision of Lincoln 13 

If This Were All 14 

The Hope of the Dispossessed : 15 

The Kainbow's End 17 

Love's Challenge ,_18 

My Father's House 19 

The Song of Life 20 

Our Daily Prayer 21 

His Face 22 

The Hope Eternal 22 

Not Me 23 

Greetings 23 

On Earth as 'Tis in Heaven . 24 

Life's Magic Staff 24 

The Kichest Man on Earth 25 

Motherhood 26 

The Mystic Easter 27 

A Man God-Size 28 

The Healing Christ 29 

MAR -I 1921 §>CU614092 



The Song of Songs 30 

The Wise Men 31 

Unconquered Faith 32 

^0 I Believe 32 

My Wish for You 33 

Attainment 33 

Victory 34 

Be Still and Know 35 

Inscribed in Emerson's Poems 35 

The Soul's Awakening 36 

Love's Horoscope 37 

The Master of Fate 38 

The Secret Fount 39 

Wings . 40 

The Yogi's Vision 41 

Which Shall It Be 42 

The Conquest of Pain . 43 

Your Happiness Flower 44 

The Maple and the Child 45 

God Reigns _ 47 

Wishin' 48 

Sunset 48 

To Mother in Heaven „ 49 

Inscribed in Walt Whitman's Leaves of Grass 49 

The Eternal Santa . 50 

Love's Conquest 51 

Sunshine . 51 

The Vision of Tahoma 52 



THE SPIRIT SINGING 

One evening I wandered musing 
Far out by the ocean's shore 
And listened with deathless sadness 
To the sound of its sullen roar. 
The ocean, that rolled incessant, 
Seemed breathing heartbroken sighs, 
And the spray which it dashed in madness 
Were as tears from human eyes. 

My own lost ideals mocked me 
And the hopes of my youthful spring 
Glided like ghosts beside me 
On sleeping and soulless wing. 
For I had dreamed in life's morning 
Fond dreams of glorious worth, 
Had labored with zeal and gladness 
For the Kingdom of God on earth. 

But all my hopes were broken, 
My heart lay bleeding and bare, 
I drifted a wreck on life's ocean, 
I drifted— and cared not where. 
For the earth was no longer golden, 
But a level waste of pain, 
And the rainbow of hope alluring 
Could never be mine again. 



No hell could be worse than to stand 

In the midst of ideals slain, 

To walk with a show of gladness 

And the restless heart of Cain; 

To feel, 'neath the smiling surface, 

The misery at the core, 

That the longing of men for heaven 

Was to hell the open door. 

Till I said in my anguish, driven, 
"This earth-life's all in vain," 
When sudden from over the waters 
There floated a wonderful strain — 
The song of a soul rejoicing, 
And I asked not the singer to see, 
It seemed the Voice of the Spirit 
Singing Love's song to me. 

A song of man's soul, triumphant 

O'er poverty, woe and pain, 

And each pang my soul had suffered 

Seemed a part of that heavenly strain. 

I never can tell how it happened, 

But my sorrows melted away 

And the eyes of my soul were opened 

To the light of a heavenly day. 

Since that magical hour by the ocean, 
Which I call the Soul's new birth, 
I have walked with faith triumphant 
Through the darkest vales of earth ; 



8 



And whenever my way is darkened, 
And my life seems full of pain, 
It is then I can hear in accents clear 
Some notes of that wonderful strain. 

Oh, blest be the hour of vision 
When the ears of the soul can hear 
The music of choirs celestial, 
As we walk with our loved ones here ! 
Fain, fain, would I write it down — 
The message clear and ringing — 
But my earth-born words cannot express 
The Song of the Spirit Singing. 

SUCCESS 

I hold that man alone succeeds 

Whose life is crowned by noble deeds, 

Who cares not for the world's applause 

But scorns vain custom's outgrown laws; 

Who feels not dwarfed by nature's show, 

But deep within himself doth know 

That conscious man is greater far 

Than ocean, land or distant star; 

Who does not count his wealth by gold, 

His worth by office he may hold, 

But feels himself, as man alone, 

As good as king upon a throne ; 

Who, battling 'gainst each seeming wrong, 

Can meet disaster with a song, 

Feel sure of victory in defeat, 

And rise refreshed the foe to meet, 

Who only lives the world to bless, 

Can never fail — he is success. 



MY ANCHOR HOLDS 

Amid the whirling things of space 
My soul has found a resting place ; 
The Power that ever forms and moulds 
The universe, my faith upholds, 
I rest content ; my anchor holds. 

Long, long I lived in dire suspense 
Between the dual things of sense, 
'Twixt form and substance, life and death, 
The form of clay, the quickening breath; 
Till from my soul a thread was wrought 
Through earnest prayer and silent thought, 
Then fearlessly myself I flung 
The chaos sea of things among. 

All things of life were now at stake, 
What if the ductile thread should break? 
Mine now the joy of faith's suspense 
Not knowing whither, when, nor whence ; 
One thought alone to me was clear, 
I can but sink ; I will not fear ! 
Then strong as steel became the air, 
My faith found anchor everywhere ! 

' ■ 'Twas but a dream, ' ' I hear you say ; 
Perhaps! Perhaps! But from that day 
In faith serene, I smile and say — 
Amid the whirling things of space 
My soul has found a resting place; 
The Power that ever forms and moulds 
The universe, my faith upholds ; 
I rest content; my anchor holds. 

10 



THE HILLS OF GOD 

Soul, rejoice! The Living One 
Behind the seen your eyes may see ; 
Look upward to the Hills of God 
Forget your sin and misery ! 
Remind Him not of wasted years, 
The dreams of sense He can not know. 
Behold His face, and while you look 
Your darkest sins become as snow. 

Look upward to the Hills of Faith 
When clouds obscure the earthly way, 
Whene'er we find our rest in God 
The earth-born clouds pass swift away. 
The reason why our way is dark, 
The reason why our eyes are dim, 
Too much we watch our erring feet, 
Too little faith have we in Him. 

Look upward to the Hills of Hope, 
hearts that bleed, eyes that burn, 
Whene'er your heart rests deep in God. 
Behold your loved and lost return. 
There is no death for those whose eyes 
Look upward to God's glorious Hills; 
Nor life nor death can separate 
Hearts that the Father's presence fills. 



11 



FREEDOM 

Think not, man, that thou art free, 

Because no prison walls detain 

The freedom of thy will, 

Nor armed sentry stands on guard 

To curb thy liberty. 

For thee the palace doors fly wide, 

The gilded porter takes thy cloak 

And menial servants bow their pride; 

Thy wealth commands the church 

And heaven's high-sent priests are dumb, 

Nor dare to lift God's light 

To show thee who thou art, nor speak 

The sting thou feelest in thy heart. 

Thou art not free, though armies at thy will 

Compass the earth and sow red hate, 

While kings and princes call thee great. 

For thee the nameless Terror walks 

And God's strong justice locks thee in 

While outraged conscience talks. 

Thou art not free till God's great love is thine 

And then — no prison walls detain 

Though armed guards surround, 

Though sparkling bayonets gleam — 

Thy risen soul is free 

For thou hast Seen. 

MOTHER 

A word there is the Angels know 
And speak to one another, 
The Highest Name, the Holiest Love — 
On earth we call it — Mother. 

12 



THE VISION OF LINCOLN 

Whene'er some vested wrong seems right, 

When error sits on Freedom's throne; 

Whene'er Goliath armor-shod 

Shall dare to challenge Heaven's own, 

God sends some David to the field 

The powers of darkness to dethrone. 

Our Lincoln, reared among the woods, 
From virgin soil had drawn its powers, 
Untutored in the ways of kings 
Had grown in silence as the flowers, 
From nature learned the secret strength 
Of storm-clouds and of darkened hours. 

The powers of darkness, safely throned, 
Laughed deep in scorn to see him come 
In homely garb and ready wit, 
With jest and laughter on his tongue, 
They could not see the sword of flame 
Hid deep beneath the coarse homespun. 

He used the vision God had given 

To set a race of bondmen free ; 

Not hate, but pitying love was given 

To all who called him enemy, 

And in the deepest, darkest hours 

His soul drank deep from hidden powers. 



13 



Today above a world war-riven 

Majestic-like his face I see, 

His heart of strength and love sustaining 

All those who work for liberty, 

And smiles as one whose soul can see 

A world United ! Happy ! Free ! 



IF THIS WERE ALL 

My heart in a golden rapture 
Was calm in the eventide, 
As I rode through the golden sunset 
With the love of my life beside. 

The day had been full of blessing, 
With the sweetness of work well done, 

And before me was home and comfort 
And the kiss of my little son. 

The sun that had sunk from vision 
Still crowned Tahoma's brow 

With scarlet and pink and crimson, 
Till I said, ' ' 'Tis heaven now. ' ' 

Then sudden a sweet Voice whispered, 
As soft as the moonbeam's call, 

"0 child, it were all illusion, 
If that which you see were all." 



14 



THE HOPE OF THE DISPOSSESSED 

" There comes to my ears," the Lord God said, 
"From the earth a sound of woe; 
Now, Gabriel, fly to the troubled earth, 
On the wings of the morning, go ! ' ' 

And the strong-winged angel earthward sped 
And traveled the whole world o'er, 
Then swift to the heavens again he rose 
And stood God's throne before. 

"Now tell me the cause," the Lord God said, 
"Of the woe that I hear expressed?" 
And the angel covered his face and said, 
" 'Tis the cry of the dispossessed. 

As I neared the earth, on Your errand sent, 

I saw the world blood-red, 

In awful heaps Your children lay, 

On the sad earth, cold and dead. 

And I asked the wise of the earth, my Lord, 
' What means this thing I see?' 
And they blindly answered my quest and said, 
'They died for democracy.' 

But where is the thing for which they died? 
And what has their shed blood brought? 
Then the rulers of men, Lord, were dumb, 
And their cold lips answered naught. 



15 



Then I asked the workers of earth the same, 
And they scarce could speak for pain, 
But the answer came, 'For what we fought 
Is lost in the strife for gain. 

"We gave our all, and our loved ones died 
For the vision of earth made free 
Till the tyrant fell, then back we came 
To the same old misery. 

No spot on earth can we call our own, 
No hope our hearts to cheer, 
Our backs are bent and our spirits rent 
To fatten the profiteer. 

But deep in our hearts there burns a fire 
That never can be suppressed, 
For we b'lieve that God is a righteous God 
And the hope of the dispossessed ! ' ' 

And the Lord God said, "My Spirit still 
Lives deep in men's hearts, I see; 
And they who would crush the weak will find 
They are fighting even Me." 




16 



THE RAINBOW'S END 

Long years ago, when but a child, 
I heard the story told, 
Could I but reach the Rainbow's End 
I'd find a pot of gold. 

"With eager steps I often ran 
To reach the golden lure, 
But ever as I sped along 
The rainbow sped before. 

" 'Twas but a myth," I later said, 
"That story I was told. 
No mortal ever reached the end 
Nor found the pot of gold." 

Until one day, from glorious height 
I saw the Rainbow's End, 
Encircling in a golden glow, 
The dear form of a friend. 

But when unto my list'ning friend 
My story I had told, 
"Alas," he said, "I saw no bow, 
Nor have I found the gold." 

And looking in his laughing eyes, 
To me this truth came clear, 
We often fail to find our good 
Because it lies too near. 

Deep now I know the Rainbow's End 
Rests o'er each human soul, 
And wheresoe'er we walk in faith 
We find God's pot of gold. 

17 



LOVE'S CHALLENGE 

I send my Word, my wing-ed Word, 

My Love-Clad Word of power, 

O'er angry lands, thro' hostile fleets, 

And poison-spitting tower. 

I ask no truce, no allies seek, 

I cry alond for war ! 

To all the hell-bound hosts of hate 

I cry aloud for war ! 

Say, are you blind, you boastful giants? 

Your eyes with blood run red, 

You think you live, you foolish ones, 

Your hearts with hate are dead. 

You cannot see my glittering sword, 

Your eyes with blood run red, 

I could not slay you if I would, 

Your hearts with hate are dead. 

The Voice says : ' ' Prophesy to them, 
These seeming living dead," 
The Voice says: "Prophesy to them, 
Whose hearts with hate are dead." 
The Voice says: "Prophesy and say, 

blind and dead, rejoice, 

You died because you fought 'gainst Me, 
You died because you could not see, 
(Grim death was in your choice.") 

1 bathe with Love your hate-filled eyes, 
I breathe thro' brain Love's power, 

I pierce your heart with Love's sharp sword, 
I cry aloud for war! 
The earth is rosing toward the Dawn, 
I call you to Love's war! 

18 



MY FATHER'S HOUSE 

Within my Father's house so long, 
A beggar asking alms, I stood, 
Weak, knocking at each untried door, 
My body worn with pain, so sore ! 
Nor knew the Father's all was mine 
Forever — evermore. 

But now the Light — God, so great, 
In trembling love I hesitate — 
Too great the glory seems, too good, 
The Father's love is understood, 
And all He hath is mine. 

Within my Father's house I stand; 
I see His ways! I feel His hand! 
And learn, through faith, to understand 
The wondrous meaning of the plan 
Through which God lives His life in man. 

Within my Father's house — a King — 
Through faith, His law of Love I sing. 
No longer alms of men I need, 
No more the unlocked doors are tried ; 
I know my needs are all supplied, 
Love's law I heed. 

With Him today I walk in peace, 

And if I pray, 'tis not to beg 

Life's trials to cease. 

But knowing that His ways are just, 

I meet each trial on the way 

In love, in trust. 

19 



THE SONG OF LIFE 

(Suggested by a visit to Mt. Auburn Cemetery, the rest- 
ing place of Longfellow, Holmes, Lowell, Channing 
and Phillips Brooks.) 

I stand within the sacred walls 
Where dwell the Living Dead, 
And muse in dreamy solitude 
Upon the words they said. 

The busy city lies behind 
Where men in blinding strife 
Beat out their days in restless haste 
And call such living Life. 

The kings of finance and the mob 
Mad with the lust for things, 
I envy not. Let me today 
Live with God's chosen kings. 

God's chosen kings, who cannot die; 
They rest beneath this sod, 
The winds are vibrant with their thought 
These men who walked with God. 

I cannot think of death today, 
Their world is green and young; 
And every living blade of grass 
Seems but an uttering tongue. 

Here Minnehaha seems to sing 
Her wild sad song anew 
While on the air the Nautilus 
Spreads wondrous wings to view. 

20 



The stirring words of Sir Launfal, 
The prayer of Agassiz, 
And Brooks' and Channing's Song of Faith 
Blend in sweet harmony. 

I listen to the Inner Voice 
Too deep for thought or sound, 
I cannot speak, I only know 
This spot is holy ground. 

The Living Dead! I hear them say: 
"Back to earth's care and strife." 
And strong in faith I turn away 
To sing the Song of Life. 



OUR DAILY PRAYER 

Our Father, who in heaven art, 
Thy name shall hallowed be, 

Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done, 
Till earth with heaven agree. 

The bread of life for all our needs 

In fullness Thou dost give, 
And teachest us by Thy great love 

Our brothers to forgive. 

And when our feet in error stray, 

Thy love will swift restore. 
Thy Kingdom, Power and Glory, Lord, 

Oh, give us evermore. 

Amen. 

21 



HIS FACE 

I do not ask God's face to see — 
Enough His garment now for me. 
The sunset clouds with love aglow 
I watch, I dream, deep, deep I know 
Behind the cloud a Glory stands — 
At times I see the Painter's hands, 
Across the heavens a glory trace. 
I rest content — I wait in peace; 
Love knows when I have inward grace 
I then shall see and know His Face. 



THE HOPE ETERNAL 

Light of the endless ages, 
Truth that alone makes free, 
Star of the Wise men drawing 
My heart to the heart of Thee. 

Fire from Celestial Altars 
That burns but the dross away, 
Gold from the garnered ages, 
Faith that abides alway. 

Prisoned in Hope expectant, 
Yet by my love made free, 
Babe in heart's manger sleeping, 
Christ that is yet to be. 



22 



"NOT ME!" 

My baby boy is scarcely three, 
And yet so very wise is he, 
Whate'er suits not his majesty 
He simply says to it, "Not Me-e! ,, 

Sometimes so full of pranks is he 
My neighbor spanks him laughingly; 
Swift comes my darling home to me, 
"Bad man spank rompers, Dad, Not Me-e!" 

Deep marks of dirt on kitchen floor, 
Show Murray's been in mud galore, 
Dear Auntie points and says, "Now see!" 
"Bad dirty shoes/' he says, "Not Me-e!" 

He comes with bump on little brow 

For Daddy's kiss. I say, "See now, 

Our baby's hurt, Mama see!" 

" 'Twas Murray's head," he says, "Not Me-e!" 

I believe the cares of life would flee 
If we with his wise eyes could see, 
And say to all the ills that be, 
"You touch the outer man, Not Me!" 



GREETINGS 

May the angel's song in your soul be heard 
And the Christ be born anew, 
May the lilies of peace around you spring ; 
This is my wish for you. 

23 



ON EARTH AS 'TIS IN HEAVEN 

One Law alone, one Power divine 
Holds suns and planets in control, 
The diverse atoms own its sway 
And round into a perfect whole. 

Where'er we look, whate'er we see 
Within, without, beneath, above, 
Is held together by a Power 
We ne'er can see, but call it Love. 

Who simply live for selfish ends, 
Will hear Love's voice where'er they go, 
They cannot rise beyond its heights 
Nor sink its wondrous depths below. 

All laws are blended into one, 
On earth beneath, in heaven above, 
Earth's dearest words, "I love you so," 
The angels answer, "God is Love." 



LIFE'S MAGIC STAFF 

Peace, Power and Plenty, 

Words that are heaven-born. 

Say them, ye hearts that are weary 

Till hope in your soul is born. 

For words are things that will lift on wings 

The one who believes them true, 

And whatever you will when the mind is still 

You may call to the soul of you. 

24 



THE RICHEST MAN ON EARTH 

I cannot count my wealth by gold 
Nor name the things I own, 
The riches of the earth are mine, 
I reap where Love has sown. 

The wind brings messages of peace, 
The stars of night aglow 
Seem like the souls I knew and loved 
Long centuries ago. 

The baubles that the world calls great 
Become of little worth; 
'Tis when I give them up I am 
The richest man on earth. 

All things are mine, I would not claim 
One single thing apart; 
'Tis when I share my good with all 
I reach to Love's own heart. 

'Tis vain, Dear Heart, to try to tell 
In words how much I'm worth. 
'Tis when I love as God I am 
The richest man on earth. 




25 



MOTHERHOOD 

Madonna, Mother of the Christ, 
Before I lift my voice to sing 
Of Love that leads to victory, 
One offering to thee I bring. 
In joy I now approach thy throne 
Not mortal-built of stone or wood, 
But founded in the hearts of men, 
The spotless throne of Motherhood. 

Thou bendest still o'er every child 
In tender pitying mother care, 
And where thy children toil in pain 
Mother-love thou still art there. 
And every woman knows thy name, 
And thy deep voice is understood, 
When through her being thrills the thrill 
That tells of coming motherhood. 

haste the day when full of joy 
They too, like thee, in that great hour 
Shall bless the God of Life who gives 
To them alone on earth the power 
To usher in the Prince of Peace, 
The hope of ages undefiled, 
The holy one from Heaven come down 
Once more to earth — a little child. 

Then shall the deserts bloom anew, 
And heaven and earth be one indeed, 
The reign of Love o'er all proclaimed 
And man from every sorrow freed. 

26 



Then shall the Eden come to stay 
And man and woman glad and free, 
Shall walk together unafraid, 
Redeemed, Mother-love, through thee. 

Madonnas, mothers of the Christs, 
The countless Christs that are to be, 
To you I bring this song of love, 
The fond child of my minstrelsy; 
You are the gates of life and death, 
'Tis yours the human race to free, 
To bring to earth the Age of Peace, 
Fulfillment of all prophesy. 



THE MYSTIC EASTER 

Doubt not, Soul, that one great day 
God's mighty Son brought life to clay, 
When every blade above the sod 
Reveals the quickening life of God, 
And spring winds woo with fragrant breath 
Such wondrous life from last year's death. 

The power that raised Him ! May it be 

Soul, the Life of life to thee. 

Let Love fill full this house of clay, 

Let Faith roll every stone away, 

Let Spirit reign, let flesh obey. 

This is the Life, the Truth, the Way, 

This is thy Mystic Easter day. 

27 



A MAN GOD-SIZE 

From out of this state of strife and hate, 
From out of earth's noise and fuss, 
There will yet arise a man God-size 
Who will stand for the whole of us. 

Our ears are sore with the noise and roar 
Of the partialist's rant and fuss, 
Who stands for his class and not for the mass, 
For the whole big bunch of us. 

In childhood's day we were taught to pray 
To One who was Father to all, 
Who strengthened the weak, protected the meek, 
And noticed the sparrow's fall. 

We were told of a Man, a wonderful Man, 
The greatest this earth e'er trod, 
Who told each man whatever his clan 
To measure himself with God. 

So we wait today and deeply pray 
In the midst of earth's noise and fuss, 
For a man to arise, in Love God-size, 
In the heart of each one of us. 




28 



THE HEALING CHRIST 

The Healing Christ! He stands today 
Within a world with anguish red, 
Within a world with sorrow gray. 
The Healing Christ ! I hear him say : 
"What means this orgy of the dead? 
Was it for this I lived and bled? 
Have ye not seen, have ye not heard, 
When Peter, fierce and anger-stirred, 
To save me from impending fate, 
Would use the weapon forged with hate, 
Have ye not heard my living word? 
Did I not say : ' Put up the sword V " 

'Twas not a dream; my soul did hear 
These living words in accents clear. 
I lowly turned to him and said: 
"I know, dear Lord, the cross was bliss 
To thy great soul compared to this. 
But know, Christ, that hearts aflame 
With thine own love, still call thy name 
And pray alike for friend and foe 
Across this tide of sin and woe, 
That all thy healing love may know." 

Then deep I heard the dear Lord say: 
"Such only have the right to pray; 
To such I call in this great hour 
To save the world from error's power, 
To heal the wounds that hate has riven 
And bring to earth the dream of heaven/ ' 

September, 1917 
29 



THE SONG OF SONGS 

Singer, there's a song unsung, 
Singer, there's a song for you, 
Fresh as when the world was young 
Ere the first great singer drew 
From the chaos of his mind 
Music fresh with heaven's dew; 
In that Source from which he drew 
Singer, there's a song for you. 

Singer, there's a song for you 
Where the men of science meet; 
Letters from the Heart of God 
In the dust beneath your feet; 
In the mire and scum of things 
You shall find your beauty theme, 
'Mid the sordor and the filth 
You shall see Love's rainbow gleam. 

On the fields where nations reel, 
Blinded by hate's glowing rage, 
You shall sing a song of peace 
That will all their hearts engage. 
There's a song that you will sing 
Loud the cannons' roar above 
That will pierce the souls of steel, 
Melt the hearts of hate with love. 

Not for you the lilting rhyme — 
Daisies white, and violets blue, 
Leave these for the lesser bards — 
There's a loftier song for you. 

30 



Singer, there's a loftier song 
Than the song which Nature sings, 
Songs from out the soul of man, 
Where God's angels sweep the strings. 

Yours to set the inner life 
Of the Soul before our eyes; 
Lift us with a song of Faith 
To the gates of Paradise. 
'Neath the robes of Nature, you 
Shall discern where He has trod — 
Winder of the circuits, you 
Shall discern the living God. 

Yours to reach the garment hem 
Of the Watcher of the Night, 
Hold God's mirror up to men — 
Show us earth in heaven's light; 
You shall feel the Heart of Love 
Throbbing 'neath all human wrongs, 
When you reach the Heart of hearts 
Then you'll sing the Song of Songs. 



THE WISE MEN 

May the Wise Men lead your heart, my dear, 

Where the Christ is born anew ; 

May Love's kingdom come, 

And God's will be done, 

In the depths of the soul of you. 

31 



UNCONQUERED FAITH 

They move me not, these things of sense — 
I walk with joy where tempests blow 
Since faith unsealed my inner sight, 
And it was given me to know 
That God is the storm and He 
Sends only what is good for me. 

I do not doubt, I question not, 

Nor for the future do I pray, 

But reach strong hands of loving faith 

And trust the Stream that knows its way. 

God leaves me not alone, but He 

Speaks from the storm and strengthens me. 

Some day my bark will reach the brink 
Where darkness seems the only goal. 
Can I not leap within the night 
To meet my Captain soul to soul? 
The Lord of Light will surely me 
Within the vale to comfort me. 



I BELIEVE 

I believe that Life deals out to every man 

The hand he needs must play; 

That he is wise who murmurs not, 

Nor shows the hand life deals, 

But plays his equal part 

And bears in love each cross. 

I believe that loss and cross well born 

Are pinions strong to lift to victory's heights 

32 



MY WISH FOR YOU 

What could I wish you more, dear friend, 

Upon this Christmas morn, 

Than that within your heart each day 

The Christ of Love be born? 

That you may walk with courage strong, 

Though clouds hide heaven's blue, 

And reach a hand to those less brave, 

Their courage to renew; 

That wheresoe'er your footsteps lead, 

The flowers of hope may spring, 

And in the hour when flesh seems weak 

Hear God's strong angels sing; 

That you may be a light to all, 

One whom God's light shines through: 

Then all Love's kingdom shall be thine — 

This is my wish for you. 



ATTAINMENT 

I am content : no more I dream 
Of ships that sail on distant sea; 

No more I wait with longing heart 
For what is mine to come to me. 

Too long I in the future lived, 

And dreamed of things that were to be, 
Untasted left the present good, 

But said, "Mine own will come to me." 



33 



Unveiled at last my holden eyes, 
I saw the present glory shine, 

And knew the universe was filled 
With good that was already mine. 

Since that glad hour I sail serene 
On what before was troubled sea, 

And bless each wind, howe'er it blows, 
Since it but brings mine own to me. 

And is this faith? I do not know — 
I know it smooths life's troubled way 

And brings all things for which I sighed 
Within the kingdom of Today. 



VICTORY 

I sing of victory, from the deep 
Of broken years and sore defeat; 
From out the bitter fires of pain 
I chant the victor's conquering strain; 

For he who seeks to win the prize 
Must hope till even courage dies ; 
And trust, though beaten to the dust, 
That Truth will win when hope is lost. 

This, then, is Victory — to know, 

Though crushed beneath the foeman's blow, 

That every throb of mortal woe 

Brings God to face the conquering foe. 

34 



BE STILL AND KNOW 

weary storm-tossed soul, 

Be still — 
The Master speaks ! canst thou but say 

"I will," 
Then all the adverse winds obey 
Thy Word of Might— 
And lo ! from out of chaos' darkest night 
Will come obedient 
To Thy still small Voice, the power 
Of courage born, and strong desire, 
Clothed with the mantle of celestial fire 
That burns the dross of helplessness away. 
Then thou canst say, "Be still!" 
To all the winds that blow, 
And in thy deepest being know 
The Mighty God stands pledged 
To make it so. 
Soul, be still— 
And know 

Thy Mighty God stands pledged 
To make it so. 



INSCRIBED IN EMERSON'S POEMS 

The wisdom of ten thousand years 
Is in each throbbing line. 
On every page the Deity, 
Which words can ne'er define, 
Speaks to the heart's deep memory 
Of That which outlives Time. 

35 



THE SOUL'S AWAKENING 

An angel there dwelt in a form of clay, 
In a form as fair as the gods have made ; 
But the angel slept, and she knew it not, 
While they who were wise in silence prayed 
That a quickening power might yet be given 
To wake the guest by the maid forgot 
And change her earth to a dream of heaven. 

But the maid still traveled the beaten way 

That leads to the heights that men call fame, 

But the gods wept deep o'er the soul forgot 

For the gods see not as men the same, 

Nor heed they the noise of the world's acclaim; 

For they know that the way to life is not 

By the shining roads of wealth and fame. 

Then the sorrows came and the way grew dark, 

And the maid wept sore in her grief alone, 

And the gods were glad when they saw her weep, 

Tho' their hearts seemed hard as hearts of stone; 

But the angel stirred by sorrow's stings 

Awoke in that hour from its earthly sleep, 

And lifted the maid on living wings. 

Today she sails in a magic bark 

O'er a sea of mingled fire and pain, 

But the pains of the world they touch her not 

And never can touch the soul again ; 

While the hours of pain seem a magic strain, 

And wealth and fame but dreams forgot, 

Since the hour of the Soul's Awakening. 

36 



LOVE'S HOROSCOPE 

Soul, be still, be strong, have hope. 
The stars within thy horoscope 
Will answer to thy sovereign will 
When thou canst bid thy mind be still. 
The Power that framed each heavenly world, 
And on their course the planets hurled 
Is thine to use. Be still and know 
The mighty God ordained it so, 
That every star in heaven above 
Is subject to the Law of Love. 
Blame not the heavens for thine ill, 
It lies within thine unused will ; 
Within thy soul is power to know 
Dominion o'er the starlit show; 
Then listen deep and thou wilt hear 
God's wondrous footsteps drawing near 
And feel thy heart again grow strong ; 
Soul, be still, tarry long 
In silence brooding o'er the deep 
Where God's strong angels vigils keep, 
And hear them say : ' ' Let faith and hope 
Work out for thee Love's Horoscope." 



THE MASTER OF FATE 

Today on the heights I stand 

Above the sea of thought 

And look o'er the changing drift 

At the baubles for which men fought— 

That slip through their clinging hands 

And ever remain uncaught. 

Unchained through the drift of years 
They float o'er the surface clear 
And forever warm hands reach out 
As the illusions of life draw near ; 
Till the weary hands sink deep 
And the eager new appear. 

The eyes of my soul see clear 
That the reaching hands were mine 
Through the countless ages past 
Till I reached the Thought Divine; 
Now I laugh at the dream of loss 
Since the Gleam of the Whole is mine. 

Today on the heights I stand 
Where God's winds sing lullaby, 
And no more I reach for the gleam 
Of the baubles for which men die — 
For I reach to the heart of God 
And Master of Fate am I. 



38 



THE SECRET FOUNT 

From out of the soul of the woman I love 

There floweth a stream to me, 

That lightens the load of the burden I bear 

And lifts me on wings of the free. 

For the soul of the woman I love is strong 

And silent and deep as the sea. 

I stand in the sun on the heights above 

And men sing their praises to me; 

But little they know of the fountain of strength 

To which in my need I flee ! 

For what is their praise when I know in my soul 

She waiteth alone for me; 

And the deep of her eyes will look into the depths 

Where no other eyes can see. 

soul of my soul, in your silent depths 

Is the strength men praise in me, 

To the deep of your soul I come for help 

As the stream urges on to the sea; 

For the stream could not flash in the sun, my love, 

Were it not for the strength of the sea, 

Nor could I work on the heights above 

Were your strength not under me. 

And I call to earth's sons, my love, my love, 

To praise not my work, but thee; 

And I call to the angels above, my love, 

To wait on still wings and see — 

For even the angels might learn, my love, 

The secret of strength from thee. , 



39 



WINGS 

A mystic worm, one summer day, 

A worm that dreamed mid creeping things, 

Was known to stop upon its way 

And say, "I wish that I had wings." 

Then all the worms that nearby lay 
Laughed long and loud — poor silly things ! — 
And cried, "Put all such dreams away; 
You're but a worm — you'll ne'er have wings. 

And one grave worm more wise than all, 
(Doctor of Worm Philosophy) 
Shook his wise head and said, "I call 
This talk of wings rank heresy." 

But still the dreamer dreamed his dreams; 
Whene'er he looked at flying things 
He crept more fast, and said, "It seems 
I '11 fly like that when I have wings. ' ' 

One day he felt so chill and numb, 
His body pierced with deadly stings; 
But dreaming still, e'er death was come, 
Said, "Surely this will bring me wings." 

Today I saw on wings of fire 
This occult dreamer of the dust, 
And as it circled glad in air 
There came to me this living trust: 

That every dream and fond desire, 
These longings strange for better things, 
Are not in vain : sometime, somewhere, 
These dreams of ours will end in wings. 

40 



THE YOGI'S VISION 

The Yogi dreamed — was it a dream? — 
About all nature's Causeless Cause, 
The seeming calling itself Real, 
The Eeal on sleeping wings 
Undreamed, unknown. 

And, as he dreamed, shapes of all imaging there 

came — 
Beast, bird and things unclean for him to name — 
And he, beholding all, uncertain stood 
Until a voice within his soul pronounced the Magic 

Name of Good; 
Then at that name all things unclean spread wings 

of light, 
Laved in the cleansing flood. 

Then said the Tempter's voice, "If Brahm is good, 
and all is good, leap thou within the night. ' ' 

On awful height the Yogi stood and looked within 
the depth. 

Ten million leagues he looked, then laughed and 
leaped into the night ; 

And Brahm was there as Light. 

The waters came — before his eyes the waters piled, 

Until the mountain height was reached, 

And all but he were drowned. 

The Yogi laughed and leaped into the flood, 

As leaps a child when mother's arms are found — 

And Brahm was solid ground. 



41 



Once more with fervent heat the earth was swept j 
Nearer, more near, the fiery monster came, 
The mountains melting and the seas aflame — 
The Yogi laughed and leaped into its depth, 
Naming the magic Name, 
And Brahm was known as Flame. 

The Yogi woke and played the game called Life, 
Walking the ways of men — 
Oft lost amid the shadows, 
Calling at times the shadows, Real- 
Yet never lost from out his soul the Vision of the 

Deep — the Flood — the Flame, 
But stilled Earth's sorrows when the billows rolled 
By mention of the Name — the Name, the Ineffable 

Name! 

WHICH SHALL IT BE? 

Stern is the Law I bring to you 

Yet charged with blessing through and 

through ! 
'Twill lift to heaven or sink to hell ; 
It will defeat or victory spell; 
Your path with thorns or roses strew ; 
Which shall it be? It rests with you! 

This is the Law ! All thoughts you send 
To those who call you foe or friend, 
(Like Noah's dove, o'er waters blue) 
Will go, swift-winged, and never rest, 
Until they come with increase blest, 
And bring their likeness back to you. 

42 



THE CONQUEST OF PAIN 

I entered the Valley of Pain. 

Sorrow and anguish were there, 

Sad voices lamenting. 

Here the inhabitants called themselves 

The earth-accursed of the Lord, 

And their home the Valley of the Gate to Hell. 

Looked they with wild eyes for avenues of escape, 

And longed to dwell in the fair fields 

Where live the earth-sons strong. 

Long dwelt I in this Valley 

And walked with aching heart its thorny paths, 

Feet bleeding, despair taking deep hold, 

Till life seemed worse than death, 

And Hell than Pain preferred. 

Then prayed I that the demon of Pain 

Might come to me that I my hate might speak — 

Then die. 

That night a vision of great beauty came 

And a voice than all the music of the earth more 

sweet 
Spake, saying: "I have come. Speak!" 
But loud in agony I cried: ''Depart, 
Thou vision of beauty and light, 
From out this Vale accursed ! 
Beauty and love belong not here — 
Here dwell the earth-accursed of the Lord." 
Strangely, sweetly, smiled the vision, 
And answered calm: "I am the Spirit of Pain. 



43 



To guard and keep this Valley 
Has been assigned me by the Lord, 
And to my keeping oft are sent 
The Father's best beloved 
Here to be prepared, though as by fire, 
To enter their dominion grand. 
They who in patience pass my fires, 
And learn my lessons long, 
Shall rule the kingdoms of the world ; 
Safely shall they handle scorpions 
And no evil thing shall harm. 



) ■> 



Beauteous was the vision and my soul cried : 

' ' Tarry with me, for now that I have seen thy face, 

I love!" 
The vision vanished, speaking thus: 
"Thou art free. Life's great lesson 
Is to learn to love. 

They who love Pain have their dominion gained. 
Rise and walk!" 
Then I awoke — but Pain was not. 



YOUR HAPPINESS FLOWER 

This is my wish 

That your happiness flower 

May bloom the whole year through, 

And every hour be a Happiness Flower 

With Christ in the heart of you. 



44 



THE MAPLE AND THE CHILD 

"Come, listen to me/' said the maple, 
"0 child, come and listen to me! 
And I will tell you a story 
Of the life that is hid in a tree. 

"Long years I slept in the bosom 
Of the Heart that is heart of us all, 
Till deep from the earth's heaving' bosom 
I heard such a sorrowing call. 

"That I said to the Life Spirit, 'Send me 
Some lesson I'm needed to teach.' 
And he said, 'Hasten forth on thy mission 
And grow there in silence and preach.' 



t( 



And I sped forth, not knowing whither, 
Till I came, as a seed, in the snow. 
'Twas so cold, but the life was within me 
And I knew in good time I would grow. 

"And the spring winds blew softly upon me 
Till I lifted my head to the skies; 
And the stars kept watch ever o 'er me 
And they seemed as the Spirits' bright eyes. 

"Then the cold winter storms blew upon me, 
And I cared not but laughed 'neath the sod; 
For I felt all life's currents within me, 
As I garnered the vintage of God. 



45 



"So long I have witnessed Earth's sorrows, 
And deep in the silence I preach — 
But the ears of Earth's children are holden, 
And they heed not the lesson I teach. 

"But, listen, child! to my message, 
And learn life's lesson from me. 
When tossed on life's billows, oh, hasten 
To the Voice that you hear in the tree. 

"For I gather from out of life's tempests 
The sweetness I give unto thee. 
O, listen, my child, in the silence — 
For God has a Voice in each tree." 
# * # 

Ah, that was a dream of life 's morning 

When I listened to God in the tree, 

And now? Why, still I believe it, 

But deeper the message to me. 

Have you lost from your soul, my brother, 

The quietness learned in the wood? 

Or lived with a tree as a brother 

Till your soul and its soul understood? 

Then hasten from out of earth's noises, 

Forget what you learned in the street, 

Grasp solitude deep to your bosom 

Till your soul with the tree-soul can meet. 

The wisdom of scholars will perish, 

Earth's languages all pass away, 

But the wisdom that speaks in the forest 

Forever is fresh as the day. 

46 



How often in life's weary battle 
When the tide seemed running all wrong, 
I have gone to the forest refreshing 
And felt life's currents grow strong; 
As, deep, all the roots of my being 
Sank sweet in the bosom of Love, 
And my soul heard the hush of the silence 
The voice of the forest above. 



GOD REIGNS 

I asked the Voice what shall I write 
Mid Sorrow's reign, when all are sad, 
And deep the Inner Voice replied: 
"Be Glad." 

What shall I sing this Christmas-tide, 
In face of hate and war's increase. 
Again the Inner Voice replied : 
"Sing Peace." 

What shall I say to those who seek 
Spite blinding doubt to know God's will, 
The sweet Voice answered, say to such : 
"Be Still." 

What word of Hope for those who weep 
O'er empty chairs, Love's broken chains, 
Deep came the answer from the Deep, 
"God reigns." 

December, 1917 
47 



WISHIN' 

Every day I'm wishin' 
Lots o' things for you, 

Soft sweet winds caressing 
Diamonds in the dew. 

Flowers around you springing 
Friends to make you glad, 

Hear Love's angels singin' 
When your heart is sad. 

'Taint no use o' talkin' 
Wishes do come true, 

Once I wished a blessin' 
And God sent me you. 



SUNSET 

Sunset and golden glow, 

The peace of a soul at rest; 

Life's clouds afire with the artist's touch 

And the glory of love expressed. 

Sunset on earth, and peace — 
Day's hour most blest; 
Peace on the silent sea, 
Sunset- — and rest. 

Sunset on earth, my dear, 
In love God-given; 
Sunset on earth, and peace — 
Sunrise in Heaven. 

48 



TO MOTHER IN HEAVEN 

I know, dear heart, you still can lead 
To heights I have not strength to climb. 
I feel the thrill, I catch the gleam, 
And know your love unchanged by time. 

You are not dead — love cannot die ; 
Our earthborn eyes alone are blind. 
I reach through death, by faith made wise, 
And find you present to the mind. 

Perhaps 'tis yours, from heights above, 
To lift my earth-song to the skies ; 
I know of faith and love, dear heart, 
Because your great love underlies. 

And as the eagle in its flight 

Is held by the embracing air, 

So when I reach the heights I dream, 

I'll find your love has brought me there. 

INSCRIBED IN WALT WHITMAN'S " LEAVES 

OF GRASS" 

Within this book a treasure lies, 

And they who seek with earnest eyes and open 

mind 
Will see beneath the ebb and flow of seeming chaos 

— order grow; 
Forms here take shape, and unclean things 
Are lifted, as the singer sings, 
To higher realms and purer air, 
Till God seems breathing everywhere. 

49 



THE ETERNAL SANTA 

I still believe in Santa Claus ! 
Though years and years have flown, 
Whene'er the Christmas-tide comes round 
I find I have not grown. 

I still believe in Santa Claus, 
More now than when a child; 
Whene'er I see the Christmas toys 
My heart with joy beats wild. 

You tell me now that I am grown 
'Tis time for wiser things; 
I grant it all, and yet child-like 
I wait for what Love brings. 

And though I play the grown-up game 
And own my hair is gray, 
I believe there is a Soul of Good 
That passes not away. 

Do you believe in Santa Claus? 

Of course, of course, you do! 

Faith, Hope and Love! These still abide 

In that big heart of you. 



KHfs 



50 



LOVE'S CONQUEST 

I do not fear what man can do; 

In faith I stand serene 

Above the clouds of sin and death 

As one whose soul has seen 

The living hosts of God encamped 

Love's own and harm between. 

In faith I stand where fear is not, 

Upon the side of Love, 

And when the hosts of hate prevail 

I hear a Voice above 

The jarring notes of sin and death 

That whispers, "God is Love." 

Was it a dream — the hosts of sin 

And jarring notes I heard? 

I list again and list in vain, 

My heart with joy is stirred! 

'Twas but a dream; there is no fear! 

Love is the only word! 

SUNSHINE 

Outside the rain is falling down 
Inside the sun is shining, 
The light of heaven fills our home, 
Our baby boy is smiling. 

The light from out his baby eyes 
Dispels all cares, beguiling, 
I seem to hear the angels sing, 
Our baby boy is smiling. 

51 



THE VISION OF TAHOMA* 

'Twas a glorious golden dawning 
Of a bright December morning, 
When the good ship, the Tacoma, 
Bore me o'er the water's bosom, 
'Twixt the cities, magic risen 
Through the Saxon's love of gaining. 
Building cities, building prisons, 
Writing books of foolish learning, 
Yet the soul within him yearning 
For the deeper realms of knowing; 
Seeking for the word unspoken, 
Smiling though his heart be broken 
At the mockery of knowing 
Only that which leads him captive — 
Dreaming still of peace unbroken. 
# # # 

Spite of all our boasted progress, 

Spite of all our great inventions, 

Spite of all who preach unto us 

That the age in which we live is 

Best of all that ever has been 

Who will say that man is happy? 

Did not Goethe turn to magic 

For a draught to quench heart's longing, 

And Walt Whitman look with envy 

On the quiet cattle grazing, 

Laved in nature's great contentment, 

Undisturbed by dreams of progress, 

Round a circle never ending? 

*Tahoma was the Indian name for the mountain now known 
as Tacoma-Rainier, and was worshiped by the Indians as God. 

52 



"Whither leads this dream of progress ?" 
Said I to my soul in silence. 
"Are we wiser than the redmen 
Who went drifting o'er these waters 
Ere the white man's horn resounded 
In the stillness of their forest? 
Have we greater strength of body, 
Are our children better fitted 
For life's battles that await them J" 

• • • 

Thus I pondered in the silence, 
And my eyes were deeply gazing 
On the men who journeyed with me. 
Need I draw the veil and show you 
What your eyes reveal unto you 
Where the sons of men do gather? 
Statesmen, artists, men of letters, 
Kings of finance, social leaders! 
God, is this Thine image sleeping, 
City-builder, though we call him? 
God, are we Thy finished product? 
Are we then Thy Word's fulfillment? 
And a shudder, most of pity — 
Caused my eyes to seek the waters 
And I prayed for deeper knowing. 

• • • 

"Spirit of the world primeval, 
In whose depths are all recorded 
Wisdom from the ages hoarded — 
Be to me both guide and helper, 
Truth and inspiration give me. 
Lift for me the magic curtain; 

53 



Once again the eyes of redmen, 
Keen of sight and wonderladen, 
Heart of hunter o 'er the mountain, 
Soul of nature's children, give me ! 
Spirit of the vanished races, 
People once again the places; 
Let their thought again be spoken 
Till my eyes behold unbroken 
By the mists of human knowing 
All the subtle charm they gave Thee. 
Let the pine-tree speak within me, 
Let the mountain-god uphold me, 
May the thunder-bird her pinion 
Lend me till my soul has risen 
Free from whiteman's binding prison 
To the God in nature speaking." 

* • • 

While I prayed thus, musing, dreaming 
Of the redman's deeper meaning, 
Was it dream or was it answer? 
Suddenly a phantom figure, 
Strange of guise, stood there before me. 
Not a word of counsel gave he, 
But a look of taunting pity 
At the dwarfed child of the city 
Praying for the redman 's vision ! 
Then his eyes turned to Tahoma. 

• # * 

Was it with his eyes I saw it, 
Sunrise on the silent mountain, 
Golden-robed in silent wonder, 
Barren now and cold no longer 

54 



Seeming as life's flowing fountain, 
In the warm arms of her lover. 
Guardian watcher of the west — 
Mountain of the flowing breast, 
Feeding rivers for thy valleys 
That shall feed thy pale-faced children 
Who no longer call thee "Mother," 
Having lost that sense of wonder, 
Boasting in their erudition 
They are free from superstition. 
Wiser far their red-faced brothers 
Who of old thy forests trod, 
Gazed enraptured, lost in wonder, 
Bowed in reverence, called thee God. 

There are those who tell unto us 

That the highest thought of God is 

Never found through love nor duty, 

But is given only to us 

When the soul is lost in beauty. 
* * # 

Wondrous mountain, clothed in sunrise, 

Did my spirit blend with thine? 

Deeper than to heart of redmen 

Did I hear thy voice sublime? 

Spirit of the mighty mountain, 

Was it then thy voice to me, 

Voice of God's eternity? 

Be it fact or be it fancy, 

Since that morning, beauty stirred, 

Never gaze I on Tahoma 

But there comes some living word. 

T? ^ # 

55 



On our journey through the unknown, 
There are moments heaven given, 
When, the soul with nature blending, 
We are lifted from sense prison, 
And the ages seem as shadows. 
All that has been stands before us, 
All that will be present to us, 
Every bush with God is burning, 
Every wind a message bringing, 
Every mountain chanting, singing 
Of the purpose of the ages, 
Writ on nature's throbbing pages; 
And the souls that have beheld it 
Know of things that are divine — 
Prophets, seers, poets, sages, 
Speaking words that outlast time. 



Seeking soul, be still and listen ! 
Cease your struggles fierce and wild ; 
He who reaches heights celestial 
Cometh as a little child. 
By this token ye shall know them, 
Every honor they disown, 
Careless they of fame or fortune, 
Since the Truth of Life is known. 
Childlike faith and simple trusting 
Bring us to that secret place 
Where our spirits rapt, beholding, 
See the Father face to face. 



56 






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